|Fic: Father Figure (1/1)
||[Aug. 28th, 2005|01:14 pm]
|||||Craig David - Johnny||]|
Hey, just figured I'd introduce myself before posting my fic.I'm Vanessa or Sienna, I go by both, I'm 18, I'm a Brit and I'm completely addicted to Nip/Tuck. I've been a fan of the show since the beginning and a fan of Julian McMahon since Charmed. My favourite character's Christian, although not for his undeniable sex appeal. He's such a complex, interesting character. He seems shallow but there's so much more to him.
Anywho, enough rambling. Here's the fic. It's an old one, I wrote it last year so you may have seen it on my ff.net account.
Title: Father Figure
Time period/time setting: After 1.8 Cara Fitzgerald
Warnings: Angst, child abuse
Short Summary: Christian's thoughts and feelings after 1.8 Cara Fitzgerald.
Notes: Un-beta'd. Also posted in my fanfic journal siennasfanfic. My first N/T fanfic.
It had felt so good to cry, to let it all out, to unload the heavy burden that hung over his head. It had felt good to let Sean know what had happened to him. Knowing now that whenever he felt the anger, the guilt, the hate he so often felt that he could talk to someone helped him feel slightly relaxed about the situation.
This had been building up in him for a long time now. The incidents with Father Shannon and Devon Greco had just been the straws that broke the camels back as it were.
He sat down heavily on his bed, head in his hands. The silence around him just aggravated his feelings. He could hear Mr. Troy's voice in his head, calling to him, talking to him, telling him what to do. A tear rolled down his cheek. He hated thinking back on the events that had taken place. He hated himself for letting them happen. He knew he shouldn't blame himself, Mr. Troy had done this to him, he was to blame.
Throughout the years the images and the memories had haunted him, he'd never been able to shake the feeling that maybe, in some way, it was his fault. Maybe if he'd been a better foster son then this wouldn't have happened. He knew such thoughts were stupid but it didn't stop them from circulating around in his head.
He should have seen someone about what had happend but he couldn't face telling anyone. It had taken him years to tell Sean. The last thing he'd wanted to do was to spill his guts to some faceless pscyhiatrist.
He lay back on his bed staring at the ceiling. Devon Greco had been lucky. She'd been able to confront the man who'd ruined her life all those years ago. Mr. Troy was dead though. He couldn't confront him.
He'd imagined what it would be like in his head so many times. He'd approach him, tell him what he'd done, make him realize what he'd done. He'd shout, he'd scream, he'd swear. He'd imagined killing him before. He knew it would have been futile and it would have meant Mr. Troy had won but it didn't stop him fantasizing about causing him physical pain the way he'd caused him mental pain.
He shut his eyes and the horrible images of years gone by floated back into his mind.
The voice called.
He screwed his eyes up, put his hands over his ears trying to block it out.
Tears began falling harder.
He felt a hand touch his shoulder. He jumped and opened his eyes. Stood over him was Kimber, his girlfriend and the only thing that made any sense in this crazy world. Kimber sat by him on the bed.
"Are you okay?"
She lay down with him and wrapped her arms around him. She loved him. He couldn't love her. He couldn't love anyone. Mr. Troy had made sure of that. Until he could learn to love and accept himself, he'd never be able to let anyone in. Maybe, just maybe in years to come love and acceptance would slowly build up but by then, he'd probably have alienated anyone who'd ever cared.
He lay, eyes open, listening to her breathing slowly behind him. He didn't sleep at all that night. He just lay, silently thinking, crying, wishing the past could be changed but you can't change your past, you can only live for your future.</span>